Just Lying Here (Thinking 'Bout You)
by Georgiamw13
Summary: "It was impossible. The more Steve thought, the less he could sleep. The more he thought about how he needed to sleep, the more he thought about how he couldn't stop thinking, and could sleep even less." One-shot. "I can't sleep, ain't no sleep a'coming, I'm just lying here thinking 'bout you." - Long Hot Summer, Keith Urban


Steve lay on his back, staring blankly at the ceiling, not thinking about anything and yet absolutely everything all at the same time. It was driving him _crazy_.

It was raining. That wasn't weird. What was weird was that it was _still_ raining. Steve heard it quieten about forty-five minutes ago, which was what had woken him up, and yet.

Still raining.

A draft filtered in through the windows and Steve added it to his internal checklist of Things To Remember.

_Tighten hinges on bedroom window._

He'd been exhausted when he and Danny finally dragged themselves into bed last night; car chases with ex-cons followed by blowing up expensive coffee machines and getting glared at by the café owner will do that to you.

But now he couldn't sleep. Maybe it was the adrenaline. He'd burnt out, recharged for a power boost and now his body was ready to _gogogo_ even though his brain was determinedly chanting _nonoNO._

_Ask gov. to sign off on stationery request form._

_Get gov. to actually sign off on stupidly expensive chrome coffee machine with unnecessary milk-steamer as an apology form._

It was impossible. The more Steve thought, the less he could sleep. The more he thought about how he needed to sleep, the more he thought about how he couldn't stop thinking, and could sleep even less. It was a vicious cycle and Steve was tired of it.

Too bad he just wasn't _tired._

He'd pay for this tomorrow when he fell asleep face-planting his keyboard in his office, bent awkwardly over the desk in his uncomfortable swively chair at mid-afternoon.

_Fix office chair wheel._

_Sort desk drawers._

_Mary's birthday Monday; send card. Soon._

Things needed doing and if he wasn't asleep _an hour ago_, he was screwed.

_Printer still broken, try fixing it._

…

…_Get guy in to fix printer._

So, yeah. Screwed.

Maybe it would be a good idea to start writing things down.

He heard Danny mumble a little to his right and turned to face him.

Danny would need coffee when he woke up. His knee medication was on the kitchen counter which he would also need. He'd have to take it with milk though; they were out of juice, and Danny claimed it was easier to swallow than water, which Steve thought was weird and told Danny as much. Apparently Steve was wrong and just being awkward_._

_Buy pineapple juice._

_If not, apple._

_Mango – last resort._

_NOT ORANGE._

That bit was underlined. And highlighted. Mentally, of course.

As though sensing he was being watched, Danny blinked his eyes open the slightest hint and glanced over sleepily somewhere in Steve's direction.

Steve rolled over and pulled the blanket back up over his shoulders, shifting closer into the warmth beside him. He rubbed his nose against Danny's.

"Hey"

"No."

Steve scowled.

"But-"

"I'm asleep."

"I just sai-"

"Ssshhh."

He let out a sigh and scooted closer still, wrapping his arm around Danny's back.

"I said no, Stephen."

"I didn't say anything, Daniel."

"It's what you were thinking."

"That you're awfully cranky this morning?"

Danny cracked open the eye that wasn't hidden in the pillow a little more to throw Steve what would probably a menacing glare if it weren't immensely shadowed by his hair sticking up at physics defying angles.

"This morning? It is not morning. It is barely even dawn. We were up too late doing far too much paper work that included the words 'leapt' and 'exploded' far too many times. I'm tired. It's raining, and there is a pounding in my head from a mild concussion. In a few hours we'll be dragged out of bed and get to do yesterday all over again. We will drive too fast, eat too little and more than likely get shot at. Until then, I am warm and you have unfairly soft pillows, so, if you would kindly zip your lip, I am going back to my well deserved, soon to be short-lived sleep."

With that, Danny closed his eye, pulled the covers up round his neck, and was out like a light.

Bastard.

Steve flopped onto his back and resumed scowling at the ceiling and listening to the outside. The rain was still hammering against the windows, the wind causing it to fall practically sideways.

Danny sighed derisively and wiggled towards him.

"C'mere. Dork."

He poked and prodded Steve until he was comfortable; on his stomach, half on top of Steve and pressing his face into his shoulder. Steve turned to face him and stole a kiss against his forehead.

"Hey, Danny?"

No reply.

Steve closed his eyes and slipped an arm over Danny, clasping his hands behind his back as he rested his chin on his partner's forehead.

Maybe Danny would bring him a sandwich for lunch tomorrow. With chicken and that special mayo he keeps prattling on about.

The rain picked up once again, tap-tap-tapping over and over against the windows, on the roof, in the trees, and against the inside of Steve's skull.

_Invest in some pillows and a blanket for the office._

At least his sofa was mildly comfortable.


End file.
